Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Index to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Black Pus,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
Nas,
Desert Stars,
Liliput,
Chris & Cosey,
Fela Kuti,
New Age Steppers,
LL Cool J,
The Slits,
Arcadia,
Grauzone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pantytec,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
X-101,
Joensuu 1685,
Make Up,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
UT,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Kerri Chandler,
Dennis Brown,
Scion,
Gang Green,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Pere Ubu,
The Blues Magoos,
Faust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Severed Heads,
Lakeside,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
Jacob Miller,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.